


A Grotesque Parade of Meats and Fluids

by maximum_overboner



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anonymous Sex, Extremely dark comedy with very explicit sex, F/M, Free Use, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Oral Sex, PIV, Unhealthy Dynamics, a sneak peak into how the business works, black hat gets his dick sucked and has an existential crisis, dubcon, everyone is evil is basically what I'm saying, flug is a deeply pathetic sad sack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner
Summary: Black Hat, being as old as he is, has a very good handle on his heats. He knows when they will happen, he knows where they will happen, and he’s adept at making sure they happen in the right way, with the right people, in the right fashion.Dr Flug is not ‘the right people’. This does not stop him.





	A Grotesque Parade of Meats and Fluids

Black Hat felt a tingling in his pelvis. Naturally, he planned his entire month around it.

He sighed, lying back and tugging languidly at himself. Another chore to take care of. Another heat to sweatily work his way through. Honestly, he couldn’t get anything done nowadays for the constant interruptions. At least he was well used to heats and understanding the signs gave him ample time to plan for the worst of it, when all sense would leave him. He needed to arrange something. Another orgy? Maybe, but he had indulged in more than his fair share and even they got stale. Free-for-all-sex-brawl? Perhaps. The last one ended with two people dead and thirty swans running rampant and he didn’t want to deal with the cleanup. It had to be something different enough to be interesting but still spread over a group of people. What to do, he thought, moving his hand, what to do. He had four weeks, give or take, before it really happened, so he was afforded the luxury of some time even if most of it would be spent with his hand down his pants. He was a businessman, so it stood to reason that he could make quite a bit of money. Charging at the door, that would be a new one. Fun, as well. A private little party where guests could ‘use’ him. He could charge an astronomical rate for the pleasure of his company, it’s not as if this happened often and his sex parties were infamous.

He couldn’t cope with the indignity of debasing himself in front of Flug or Dementia. Flug would never look him in the eye and Dementia would prattle on about it until Black Hat finally managed to kill her. At least this way, paying a hefty sum for the venue, the security and the right to privacy, he could indulge in an enviable, dignified sort of debauchery. He squeaked, finished, washed up and shuffled his way to the kitchen, still heavy from sleep. Flug was there, looking even more exhausted than he normally did.

“Morning, sir,” Flug yawned.

“Morning,” Black Hat grunted, sitting down and picking up a magazine. “Where’s Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-cunt?”

“Dementia won’t wake up until four and 5.0.5 is playing with blocks in my room.”

“Oh, right. Breakfast. Hop to it.”

Flug sighed, doing as he was told. Toast made from freshly baked bread, rich, creamy butter, farm fresh eggs, a fresh pot of coffee and a carton of frozen rats. Black Hat ate one whole with an unpleasant choking noise and a bobbing of the head, then drank his coffee to wash it down. Flug lost his appetite. Upon sensing this Black Hat stole Flug’s plate, claiming the breakfast as his own.

“What are you reading, boss?”

Black Hat, always happy to talk about himself, smiled and waggled the magazine.

“I co-wrote an article on flaying and I want to see if it’s in this month’s issue of Cruel and Unusual Tortures.”

“Co-wrote? With who?”

“Can’t remember. Went to his house and flayed him to death. Stole his work. You’re a doctor, you know what academia is like.”

“I… I do.” Flug adjusted his goggles, squinting. “Are you alright, sir? You look flushed.”

“I’m fine,” said Black Hat with a casual wave of the hand. “I’m just in the middle of a mating cycle where I’ll impregnate anything that moves and hump anything that doesn’t. That time of the century. You know how it is.”

Flug, expecting nothing more than an ‘it’s humid today’, squawked like a shot bird.

“I-I don’t-- I don’t think I-- I do, sir?”

Black Hat licked his finger and turned the page, unruffled. He sipped his coffee.

“You wouldn’t, no. Dry spell?”

“That’s-- That’s a very personal--”

“Inhabiting a bit of a sexual desert? That must be frustrating. I assume. I would say ‘deepest sympathies’, but I don't care. I’m planning my sexy event and I want you to take care of all the legwork.”

“C-Can…”

Flug wrung his hands.

“Can I-- Can I come to the sexy event?”

Black Hat put the magazine down.

“Hmmm.”

He rubbed his chin, thinking.

“Hmmmm!”

He dropped a dead rat onto the toast and took a bite. Flug looked away, suppressing a gag.

“Hmmm,” Black Hat said after careful deliberation. “No.”

Flug deflated.

“Oh… Um, why?”

“You looked like you were interested and saying ‘no’ really starts my day off on a high. You aren’t allowed into my depraved sexnasium. Elites only. I have to have standards, you know. You were so eager, it’s embarrassing. You have the sexual magnetism of those tribute letters people leave at roadside accidents which really isn’t doing you any favours.”

“You don’t want me to come because I… Want to come?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Nice try, but I’m not Dementia. I remember what you said eight seconds ago.”

“B-But you,” Flug stuttered, “you still want me to arrange everything?”

“Yes.”

“And not go.”

“You’d think a man of your education would grasp the concept of slavery, but here we are. Do you want me to draw a chart? A big sweaty pile of bodies with you on the outside? Crying, probably? You seem the type. You’ll get fuck all and you’ll like it.”

“I don’t cry,” said Flug, fighting tears. “And I get the point. I’ll do it.”

“You said that as if you had a choice,” Black Hat muttered. “We need a venue. All the usual haunts will be fighting for the chance to host this, so don’t be afraid to haggle.”

“Haggling makes me nervous.”

“What doesn’t make you nervous? All the guests will have to be vetted, obviously, I’m one more bout of syphilis away from housing some kind of unkillable ultravirus and as funny as that is I don’t want to be the one to have it. Food, food as well. If you don’t get the food right I’ll kill you.”

“You know, sir,” Flug said, tired and thoroughly worn down over many months in his personal hell, “if you threaten to kill me for huge mistakes _and_ for not getting those little pastries you love they lose their edge.”

Black Hat laughed, lusting for both an endless parade of squirming bodies to fuck his way through and for tiny little choux puffs.

“‘Lose their edge’? It doesn’t matter if I bite your head off because you set the house on fire or because you didn’t get delightful snacks. Your head is still gone!”  

To punctuate his point his arm warped grotesquely into a long, axe-like appendage, which he smacked repeatedly on the table as if Flug didn’t notice it. Flug cowed instinctively, covering his head. Black Hat turned the page of his magazine with it, reading a piece on something called a Spanish Donkey. He fixed his arm with a dramatic swish of his wrist, wetly crunching his being back into position.

“Ooh,” Black Hat said lightly, not giving even close to a shit about Flug’s terror, “I haven’t seen one of these in a while. I might treat myself.”  

Flug, after a few minutes of cowering, his heart racing, finally gathered the nerve to spoke.

“What am I…”

His mouth was dry. He swallowed, but it didn’t help.

“What am I… Am I really arranging?”

“That’s the big question, isn’t it? I’m not too sure, but I’m thinking a ‘free for all’ sort of deal. I’ll be there,” Black Hat said smugly, as if this was the greatest thing he could ever do, “being _me,_ then my valued guests will come in one at a time to… Visit. I’m a fetching example of a--”

Black Hat paused.

“... _Whatever-I-am,”_ he said, coyly, in that way that always infuriated Flug. “I won’t be hurting for company. It’s more a matter of specifics.”

Something occurred to Black Hat. He loved expensive, tacky parties and thinking about how much poor people hated him, sure, who didn’t? But he was a businessman now! The days where he could wander around, indulging in whatever petty evil he fancied were long gone, but in their place were business opportunities! Blue sky thinking! Core competency! Other business words that he didn’t care about! Cold, hard, dead, soulless cash, up for the grabbing and more than that, more than the money, was a chance to reinforce connections. If this get-together brought more business then it brought about more evil in the world, and he would barely have to lift a finger, short of shoving it in somewhere. Black Hat smiled, steepling his fingers and narrowing his eyes, his comfy dressing gown doing nothing to alleviate his crushing presence.

“Oh no,” Flug said quietly.

“Oh _yes,”_ Black Hat said. "I’ve _really_ got an idea now. Whatever happened to that man that narrates our ads? I need him.”

“You locked him in the basement for three weeks. He starved to death. His family keep calling my phone, sir.”

Black Hat laughed uproariously, almost loud enough to wake Dementia.

“What a prank! I really am a delight. Flug, fetch a shovel and pail for his slimy bones, then fetch Cambot. We’re filming a bit for our most _established_ customers.”

“Established, sir?”

“Filthy rich. Actually, no, find our wealthiest clients, send me pictures and I’ll uninvite any uggos. This isn’t just going to be a heinous pit of carnal sin, it’s going to be a heinous pit of carnal sin where you’re forced to pay at the door for the privilege! We’ll send it through the miracle of modern technology; through VHS.”

“Please, sir,” Flug begged, “that’s not viable. How about… How about a video file? You can email them--”

Black Hat looked disgusted, forced to withstand his assistant’s incompetence.  

“You can’t send a video in a file, you complete fucking buffoon. You ignoramus. It’s paper. Unless you’re going to cobble together a flipbook? Hmm? Are you going to animate it? As if I’d be caught dead in a cartoon. Idiot, Flug. You’re an idiot.”

Flug sighed, rubbing his temples over the bag.

“I really am,” he mumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

They were in one of Black Hat’s seventeen bedrooms. This was the most lavishly decorated, with a large, plush bed, soft, fluttering curtains and an uncomfortably high amount of couches. Flug guessed that this space was for ‘guests’, and as a result refused to sit down on any of the seats or touch anything unless it was absolutely necessary. Flug took great care with Cambot, going to the trouble of disabling the ultraviolet setting just in case he happened to accidentally flick it on during the shoot. Flug didn’t want to think about the state of that bed. ‘UV calamity’ seemed like a gross understatement.

Flug was still sulking. Maybe he wanted to go to the extravagant sex party and drink champagne and eat little cream puffs and break his pelvis. Nobody ever invited him to extravagant sex parties. It was like everyone was going but him. Maybe all the guests were going to get together afterwards, pull up a big picture of Flug and laugh themselves silly at how terrible and extremely not-invited he was. He did all the hard work around that house. He never got to do anything fun.

Black Hat lounged on the bed, looking bored, drinking wine after changing into an even shorter dressing gown. It would only take a slight breeze for Flug to get a glimpse of the good stuff. He held this hope in his heart.

“Soft focus, Flug,” Black Hat said, eager to get this all done with so he could get back to tending to himself.

Flug flipped out Cambot’s side panel and spun it around, allowing Black Hat to see just how he was being filmed.

“It is, sir.”

Black Hat squinted, adjusting his monocle.

“Softer than that. I want it to look like I’m wading through a fog of vaseline. That’s what’s going to happen at the event, anyway. I don’t want a single unlubed crevice in that sex-haunt.”

“Sir!”

“Oh, shut up you repressed weasel. Did you get the props?”

“Yes, boss.”

“Is Dementia sufficiently distracted?”

“As instructed, sir. I told her about that new place that opened up, the comedy club. I slipped her some cash and told her it was a birthday present, on me. It’s not her birthday, but I don’t think she knows that.”

“The chance to heckle society’s rejects to tears in front of drunk idiots. She’ll be gone for hours. Flug, that’s brilliant.”

Flug puffed up at the praise.

“Then again, she’s had good practice with you, hasn’t she?”

And immediately deflated.

“And 5.0.5?”

“Asleep. He dozes off when I give him warm milk and hugs.”

“Truly disgusting. Remind me to hit him later. Come on then, let’s get this show on the road.”  

He leaned back on the bed, putting on his bedroom eyes.

“Action,” Flug said.

“Why hello,” Black Hat purred, sending a shiver down Flug’s spine, “I…”

Black Hat caught a rose between his teeth, flung from offscreen by Flug. He turned dramatically to the camera.

 _“... Didn’t see you there,”_ he purred. Flug let off a party popper, as instructed, hitting Black Hat in the neck. Before Black Hat could salvage the take Flug walked in front of the camera, fretting.

“Are you alright, s-sir?”

“Not now I’m not,” he barked, “you’ve ruined the footage!"

“Please don’t flay me,” Flug whispered.

“We’ll see how the day goes. It’s not looking good so far. Action!”

Flug scrambled off camera, taking the rose with him.

“I’m-- I’m the one that has to say action, sir.”

“Say action.”

 _“Action!”_  

“Why hello, I…”

Black Hat grabbed the rose from the air again, turning around dramatically and accidentally revealing his nakedness. Flug made a choking noise and Black Hat tutted.

“I can’t show them the best part on video, these morons won’t pay if I do! Cut out the part where I called them morons.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And the part with my penis.”

“And the part w-with-- with your penis, boss.”

“Action.”

“I’m,” Flug insisted despite his better judgement, “I’m the one that has to say--”

_“Action.”_

Black Hat, unwilling to grab any more roses from the air and correctly deducing that Flug was contemplating suicide by party popper, spun around, this time with his gown tightly tied.

“Greetings, feckless leeches!”

Flug sighed.

“Cut!”

Black Hat pinched the skin between his eyes, muttering.

“Did I do it again?”

“You did. Please stop insulting customers on tape.”

“Urgh! I can’t think like this. Once this is over I have to pummel my groin into oblivion, there’s no blood left for my brain. Let’s just get this done. Filming a bit for these horny idiots can’t be that difficult. All I need is class. Sophistication. To let my charisma do the talking. I need to _ooze_ raw sex.”

“R-Right, sir. And… Action!”

Black Hat spun around to face the camera with extravagant confidence.

 _“Rectal penetration; for or against?_ You’ll find out at my exclusive--!”

“Cut, cut, _sir!”_

Flug realized he had made a terrible mistake. Black Hat lunged over, formless like smoke, then manifested to grab Flug by the lapels and shake him like a terrified maraca. His voice was two-toned, flanged and piercing.

“Stop ruining perfectly good takes, you’re one more ‘cut’ away from me cutting _you!”_  

“I’m sorry sir,” Flug pleaded, “I’m sorry, please put me down--”

Black Hat shoved Flug back and marched in front of the camera petulantly, waiting. Flug stood up, positioning himself meekly behind Cambot.

“A-Action--”

Black Hat jabbed his finger at the camera lens, his thin veneer of unctuous charm gone.

“You! Sex party! Expensive! _Show up!”_

Flug peeped his head from behind Cambot, whispering.

“This isn’t a very good promo--”

This final indignity was enough to send Black Hat into one of his notorious horny rages.

“How can you expect me to work under these _deplorable conditions!_ Stitch some shit in, the arrangements, I don’t care, have something scroll across the bottom of the screen, now get out so I can ragewank. I am done here, we are done.”

Flug tapped his fingers to one another.

“... Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?”

Black Hat threw him out, dragging him by the lapels of his coat and tossing him easily with one arm, slamming the door in his face. Flug heard a muffled, gravelly sigh of satisfaction, followed by an angry yelp.

Cambot came sailing out of the door, which was slammed again.

 

* * *

 

The chosen venue was a bar, booked weeks in advance, allowing guests a chance to grab a drink and chat as they waited. Security flanked the entrance, as well as the hallway to the second, smaller area where Black Hat sat, for show more than anything. He heard muffled conversation, lively and merry, villains and associates united under one roof for something that wasn’t a double cross, or a trap.

Black Hat sat strapped to a chair, his arms tied tightly around the back and a blindfold over his eyes. He gave the signal, hitting his foot twice against the floor, and the door opened. His mouth was dry, and his breathing laboured.

His erection was obvious. The little civility there was would be peeled back soon as his heat overcame him. His timing had been spot on, as always. The door clicked shut gently, muffling the noise of the party once again. Then the rhythmic clicking of heels on the hard floor and a soft, large dress bunched up to his chin. He lifted his hips as much as he could, feeling the warmth and grinding into it.  

“Ah, the Blood Countess,” he said as if he had some composure. “I would recognize that perfume anywhere. Thirty-thousand rats worth of tularemia, a barrel of Hendra virus, thirty reinforced pliers, seven heretic’s forks and a flat pack crucifixion bundle.”

“Reciting my last order. A transparent attempt to butter me up for future transactions.”

“Oh no, that was for my own fun. You’ll buy from me anyway. I’m the only business that sells pliers sturdy enough for what you get up to. I thought you would be dead by now, whatever you’ve done to extend your lifespan is working wonders. Virgin’s blood, I presume?”

“Bathing _and_ drinking. Shall we?”

“We shall. Couldn’t resist after the last little… _Get-together?”_

His belt unbuckled and his fly unzipped, he felt the cool air of the room on his wriggling cock.

“I’d heard stories,” she said as he pretended to care, “but after attending the last party, how could I? Did they ever catch those swans?”

“Shot, I think.”

She sunk down on his cock, setting a slow pace for the night and providing him with a modicum of sweet relief from the blistering ache in his blood. She was still talking but he tuned her out, the necessary niceties shoved to one side. Forever, ideally, this one would die soon. A thick, gravelly sigh crawled from his throat as the chair creaked under him. They stayed like that, their movements growing in intensity as the minutes passed and Black Hat’s shallow, rasping breaths filled the room. A slender arm draped over his shoulder and he couldn’t slap it away without breaking the rope, so he grit his teeth and pretended it was a display of pleasure. With a grunt and a shake, he came, his cock twitching as he pumped out a torrent. He moaned, legs wide apart, finding joy in relief. The ache started building again.

“I’ll be back later,” she breathed.

“By all means. But don’t expect me to be as chatty. Or polite.”

“I’m not here for that.”

“Then you’ve got your priorities straight.”

With that, she left to rejoin the other guests, presumably to brag. Black Hat sighed, shifting in his seat. He smacked his shoe against the floor twice to signal the guard at the door.

“Next one.”

The door clicked open, followed by an excited pitter-patter of dress shoes as the door was slammed shut. Oh no. Oh no, it was one of the eager ones. Black Hat heard a young man so excited that his voice was barely audible.

“Oh my God. Oh my God, it really is you. I thought this was a scam, or that you would… Would get all of us together and blow up the building to eliminate any competition.”

Black Hat bristled visibly at ‘competition’, but he did his best to keep it genial. If he flew into a rage in the presence of only the second guest the night wouldn’t recover.

“No point blowing up this place,” he said, casually, “it’s not what I’m here for. It would be bad for business. And besides, you can’t have sex with a corpse.”

“I mean, if you really--”

“You can’t have _good_ sex with a corpse.”

The stranger clapped, delighted.

“Oh my God, we’re-- we’re going to have sex, aren’t we?”

“If you hurry up and stop fawning.”

The young man laughed as if this was a ridiculous notion.

“Fawning? Me? Pah! I don’t fawn. You might have heard of me.”

Black Hat raised an eyebrow. He knew he should be enraged but the display was so desperately sad that he couldn’t help but admire it as if he were watching a dying animal thrash by the roadside. Against his better judgement, he encouraged the man.

“... Go on.”

Black Hat felt a business card slide into his front pocket and was so aghast at the man’s boldness that he couldn’t find it in himself to raise hell. He sat there, with his jaw open, wondering what would happen next.

“I’m… The Enabler.”

Black Hat blinked under his blindfold, his will to live plummeting.

“The… The Enabler.”

“Yeah.”

“Like the thing drug addicts have?”

“Kind of, but instead of heroin, I do punching. My evil fists enable me to do bad things.”

“How rich are you, again?”

“Billionaire.”

“What a…”

Black Hat bit his tongue, the business was too good to turn away. From what he was hearing this one _desperately_ needed his products.

“What a _unique_ name,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Very… Fetching. So are you going to start, or…?”

He felt…

Black Hat grumbled.

 _… The Enabler_ walk around his chair as if surveying a hostage, with all the pomp and circumstance of someone who didn’t know what they were doing.

“Well, well, well,” he said, and Black Hat could almost hear his upturned chin, “it seems you’re stuck here, at my mercy.”

The footsteps stopped behind him.

“Unfortunately for you,” he continued, _“I don’t have any--”_

Black Hat broke his neck, swinging his head around one hundred and eighty degrees to make his point, drawing a horrified shriek.

“Look,” Black Hat said, not having it, his voice thin as his windpipe warped like overcooked spaghetti. “I know you want to gloat. I get it. I understand it’s addictive, we’ve all been there. Me. The greatest villain ever. Tied up in front of you. But you’re forgetting two key points; one, I am choosing to be like this, and two, I can very easily choose to stand up instead and completely rearrange your organs. If you don’t hurry up and do something about my cock I will tear through these ropes, I will take my blindfold off, and then I’ll walk over and kick your kneecaps up and out of your body through your nipples. Now be a good boy and hurry up.”

“... Yes, sir.”

Black Hat twisted his neck further until his head was facing forward.

“Wonderful. Don’t talk anymore.”

The Enabler, now crestfallen, slinked around to Black Hat’s front. He got on his knees, awkwardly handled Black Hat’s cock, then hesitantly put it in his mouth, unsure of how to deal with a tentacle.

“Less teeth, more tongue,” Black Hat grunted.

He complied as best he could, still grazing the thin skin occasionally despite his efforts. As far as fellatio went, it was acceptable, which was a great deal worse than what Black Hat wanted. The Enabler bobbing his head just wasn’t working, so Black Hat ordered him to keep still as he moved his hips to a stuttering, lacklustre climax that did nothing to ease him. Spluttering, The Enabler stood up and over Black Hat, unzipping his fly.

“No,” Black Hat said, “we’re done. I got my rocks off.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Um… Sorry.”

“What kind of villain apologizes politely!”

The Enabler stuttered, confused.

“I’m-- I’m not sorry?”

“It’s too late to take it back, now you’re just being fucking rude!”

The Enabler held his hands out in a pacifying gesture, which happened to be completely lost on Black Hat.

“It has been such an honour. I know I’m important, but I have to stay humble, and nothing is as humbling as--”

“Stop. Stop immediately. Stop. It’s fine. Glad you had fun. Huzzah. There are other guests waiting.”

The Enabler nodded, which Black Hat couldn’t see which meant they were sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

“So, uh,” said The Enabler, “what happens now? The tape said there’d be a part where we all look at pictures of your assistant and laugh because he’s not invited, is that still, uh…?”

“What do you mean what happens now? Did you not read the pamphlet? The one handed out at the door? ‘Terrifying Breeding Cycles And You’? I gave the doormen stacks of them.”

“There’s a pamphlet?”

“For the love of-- do you know what a heat is?”

“Not really.”

“Just… Look, you can come back later, you’ve not paid for one round.”

“Whoa, really?”

“Yes. Go back to the waiting room. Eat the vol-au-vents. Drink the champagne. If I have any luck you’ll get alcohol poisoning and d--”

It was too late. He was gone. The call of vol-au-vents was too strong for him to resist.

“Don’t leave when I’m threatening you,” Black Hat shouted, alone, “don’t you people have any fucking manners? You can’t just walk out when I’m still talking, you can’t--!”

Black Hat felt his tenuous grip on his body waver. To vent he let out an ear piercing, otherworldly shriek, which was answered with a loud and merry ‘EYYY’ from the guests in the other room who took this to be part of the festivities, a call and response of unabashed sexual idiocy. Black Hat muttered, now fully ‘himself’.

“New money villains… Think that because they’ve robbed a bank or overthrown a small country that they’re worth something… Tacky, spoiled idiots… Alright, next!”

Two men and a woman, going by the sounds of the footsteps. He furrowed his brow. It was supposed to be one at a time unless they came as a group.

“Ah, the Terrible Trio,” he exclaimed, remembering, “I was wondering about you. Gerald, how’s the wife?”

“Still dead,” he grunted.

“My organization really does the best poison on the market. How’s the underwater base going? I’m assuming my lackey took care of everything?”

Then the woman spoke.

“It exploded.”

Black Hat sat there, aghast. He had moved beyond anger into quiet despair. Despite taking his advice and banding together, transforming themselves from mediocre villains into a mediocre group, they continued to do stupid things. Was this really it? Was this the state of the industry? The art? Pomp without purpose, as hollow and played out as Black Hat himself felt, distracting himself with odds and ends to keep sane?

“It… It _exploded?”_

“We installed a self-destruct button and Dark Gary got drunk and pushed it,” she replied as if this was normal.

What was it with inferior villains and installing self-destruct buttons? Why were these people so obsessed with orchestrating their own downfalls? It was like a drug to these petty freaks! Every week something like this happened. It was the number one thing to avoid, according to Black Hat’s weekly newsletter. He let the veneer slip before he could think.

“Oh, of all the stupid, brain-dead things I’ve ever heard--”

“We’re looking to buy another one from you.”

“-- That was certainly the best _and_ the wisest! Statistically, what were the chances that all three of you would meet one another and turn out to be _dashing_ geniuses? What kind of businessman would I be if I turned away platinum customers? Speaking of business, all three of you did pay at the door, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Splendid! Are you absolutely sure you paid?”

“We did.”

“Each?”

“Each.”

“Read the pamphlet?”

“Read the pamphlet.”

“Wonderful. Have at me, then.”

The sound of flies unzipping and heels being kicked off. Black Hat felt a warm presence in front of him, he opened his mouth, let his tongue hang and moved forward. Just before he tasted flesh, he stopped.

“... You did shower before you came here, right? Not this morning, either, I mean before you were driven here. Within the hour.”

The woman spoke up, stood above him in a position Black Hat would call ‘undignified’ if he could see it.

“Of course!”

“Can never be too careful with morons,” Black Hat muttered under his breath.

 _“Excuse_ me?”

“Oh,” he said, smoothly, “I was just talking about how lovely you smell. What is that, lemon?”

“It’s actually a seaweed balm--”

“You know what, I don’t care.”

She protested, but he shut her up by running his tongue up her slit, pressing his face into her flesh and ravaging her like an animal. Taking his lead, Gerald sank to his knees and tugged at Black Hat’s aching cock. Black Hat groaned at the taste, coming undone with only a few tugs. Sweat drenched his body, but he hadn’t planned on keeping his clothes. The woman came soon after, panting and gasping through Black Hat’s skilful work.

Black Hat heard the third member, Dark Gary, the one who didn’t speak, masturbating nearby. Black Hat suspected that he didn’t really want to be here but appreciated the politeness of a courtesy wank. The woman pulled away and Black Hat felt something hard press against his lips.

“You’re very brave,” he said playfully, making a point to run his tongue against his knife-sharp teeth, “very, _very_ brave.”

Black Hat took the thick cock into his mouth, moving his tongue rhythmically along the shaft with experience and precision. Occasionally he drew his teeth along the tender flesh but resisted the urge to bite down. After a few minutes of this, drawing heady pants and sighs, the cock withdrew. Black Hat sat patiently with his mouth open, his tongue lolling out. Ropes of cum splattered his face, staining his blindfold and landing in his mouth. He swallowed and sighed dreamily.

“You really _didn’t_ read the pamphlet,” he said, running his tongue over his teeth again. “If you did, you would know that costs extra. Another thirty-thousand. The doorman will take that from you on the way out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Gerald blurted. The warm atmosphere died away.

“Remember,” Black Hat said, an icy undertone to his words, “you aren’t just paying to spend the night with me, you’re paying for my _patience_ as well. Good service is expensive. You would do well to remember that. Keep in mind that my anger is free and readily available.”

“No,” the woman said, frantic with newfound fear, “no, no, we understand, we’ll pay at the door. There’s no need for that, really, we’ll pay.”

“Of course you will! Feel free to relax with the other guests until the big finale.”

“Um, hold on,” Gerald said, his ego wounded, “Dark Gary is still masturbating.”

“Oh. Right. He can finish.”

They all waited politely for a few moments. Black Hat tapped his foot.

“... There he goes,” Gerald said. They left for the waiting area. Black Hat licked the cum around his face with his long tongue. Even if human beings were feckless, petty creatures, they did have their uses. They spent money, they served as adequate houses for his seed and they were as content to watch evil transpire as Black Hat was to perform it. He signalled for the next guest, his mind foggy with lust and his growing urge to stand up from his chair and ruin someone.

A man, a bulky man at that, with even, measured footsteps.

“Evening, sir,” the man said.

“Evening,” Black Hat replied.

That voice, where had he heard that voice? On the phone? Black Hat squinted. Military, perhaps? There was certainly a presence, and the ‘sir’ was of deferential respect, almost like a tic, and not the whimpering sycophancy Flug would employ to stay on Black Hat’s good side. Black Hat nodded, putting the pieces together. This man wasn’t a villain in the traditional sense, but an agent that acted on behalf of people that wished to remain anonymous when making inquiries or purchasing products. An annoyance, but an understandable one. The route politicians used, as well as celebrities and conventional academics that didn’t want to dirty their names with the acquisition of fun and terrible implements. Callous hands hesitantly worked Black Hat’s cock, all in blissful silence.

“Not much of a talker, are you,” Black Hat mused aloud, sensing the chance to push some buttons. The agent faltered, then resumed his pace.

“I didn’t think I had to be, sir.”

“It’s not a criticism. Don’t mind me.”

“Of course, sir.”

Appropriately fearful, but trained enough to suppress it. There was definitely military in this one. The agent slipped Black Hat’s trousers down. A lubricated finger slipped inside Black Hat, haltingly, stopping and starting again as the man gathered his nerve.

“A lot of bold ones tonight,” Black Hat said, dully amused. The probing finger withdrew.

“Oh, do you not, uh--”

“No, I do, you’re just the first to try. Let me adjust myself.”

Black Hat shuffled his arms, loosening the ropes, taking care not to tear them to bits. He scooted forward until his ass was further off the chair, giving unrestricted access.

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s what you paid for.”

Black Hat sensed he wasn’t going to get much back-and-forth out of this one. He felt, for the first time in a long, long while, a little awkward, and it couldn’t be alleviated through shouting as this man was paying him the proper respect and due diligence. Distant enough to be frustrating, but wise enough to be deferential. There was that closeness and the clumsy, primal feeling of skin on skin. The agent’s cock poked at his backside, but he didn’t thrust.

“You were all business before,” Black Hat said. “Why are you hesitating? Is it the angle?”

“I was chatting to the other… Guests, in the lounge, before I came in. Is it true that there’s… Teeth...?”

“No,” Black Hat responded simply. “I mean, there could be. Do you _want_ teeth?”

“No, sir.”

“It wouldn’t be the strangest request I’ve ever had. You’re respectful, you’ve given me a lot of clients; I can throw you a bone or twelve.”

“No thank you, sir. No teeth.”

Black Hat raised a brow.

“... Please,” the agent said.

“Fine. You’re the one that brought it up.”

The agent primed himself. Black Hat squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip in anticipation, but the force never came.

“What’s wrong now,” he grunted.

“I’m still thinking about the teeth,” the agent admitted.

“Your fear is reasonable and the fact you have it speaks to your intelligence. But keep in mind I didn’t pick up the reputation I have by biting the cock off of every man I invited to touch me. Unless it's funny. Don't make it funny and you will be fine.”

“I… I won't, sir.”

“I won’t be patient for long. If you’re not going to fuck me now I’ll let you later, but pick an option and pick it soon. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I…”

Black Hat blinked. He felt like he was moving through syrup, his mind fogging as words escaped him for a moment. The worst of it was approaching. Steeling himself, he found his voice.

“... Don’t have a lot of goodwill in me,” he continued.

After another round of prodding and smearing lubricant, the agent slipped inside him with a grunt. He withdrew instinctively from the cold of it, as they all did. Once the shock of it had passed Black Hat found himself being slowly fucked into the chair.

“Wait a minute,” he said. The agent complied immediately, pulling out. Black Hat kicked off his trousers, able to sit at a better angle with them off. Black Hat gasped. Nothing beat the feeling of being stretched and filled, but he rarely had the opportunity. Too much fear. He didn’t mind that. Black Hat felt his shirt come open, the buttons undone by sweating, calloused hands. Black Hat moaned aloud, craning back and arching his hips forward. Cum splattered his front as he gasped and panted, but it did nothing to soothe him. He came again, then again, his body wracked with sensation, his limbs spasming as he was wildly overstimulated. Something warm hit his insides and it was over. The agent withdrew quickly, wiped himself off with a handkerchief and zipped up his suit.

“Thank you.”

Black Hat laughed. It reverberated around him, a heady edge to his voice. “A thank you? Really?”

“It seemed appropriate, sir.”

“No wonder you’re not a proper villain. Was this a present?”

“Yes, sir. You invited a client of mine, but she couldn’t attend.”

“A two million dollar present. Aren’t you a lucky boy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another long, awkward silence. Black Hat almost wanted The Enabler back. At least then he could have something to hate. He left and the next arrived, and then the next, and the next after him and her, then the next after them, clients and associates, and associates of those associates, and clients of the associates of those associates until Black Hat could barely keep track of who was cumming and going. Buyers and patrons, emptors and traders, all of them voracious consumers and all of them punters. Eventually, order collapsed in on itself, everyone piled into the room at once and it turned into a grotesque parade of meats and fluids, with Black Hat in the centre having the time of his life because everyone was too busy to talk. Black Hat considered what would happen after they left, buying and buying and buying his evil tools, making the world a far worse place. And all he had to do was sit there and ejaculate, even if it meant tolerating the unbearable company of all these morons. Celebrated for an inevitable biological process. He may as well have been paid to chew a steak. Black Hat was stuck. A filthy object to be used. A cold, unfeeling sex toy, able to sate his base desires over and over again in front of nearly two dozen people. The idea thrilled him in ways he didn’t know he was capable of. Wall to wall to wall, sound and flesh and heaps of meat, indistinct and soulless. He heard a fight break out on the periphery, but that was to be expected. Hours of it, until it was done, until the guests had scraped themselves from the floor, wished him a lovely night and dragged themselves out by their hands. Black Hat sat there. Ravaged, nearly naked and soaking wet. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, but he had given his guards strict instructions to leave him be until he was ready to get up. He sat there, ruminating. Cold. Damp. Alone. All in all, having a fabulous time. He barely noticed the footsteps, quiet on the hardwood floor. Black Hat roused.

“You… Are you a straggler? Ugh, don’t tell me you were late. You’ve had hours.”

He felt a weak grip on his knee. The shaking hand move up his inner thigh, stopping inches away from his penis.

“If you’re going to grope me, grope me! Don’t half-arse it!”

He was cupped in panic. He huffed, flaring his nostrils.

“That’s better.”

Flug moved his shaking thumb rhythmically, drawing a slow, pitiful mewl out of Black Hat.

“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you,” Black Hat said. “Strong, silent type? Very refreshing. I absolutely hate it when people prattle on and on. You and I have that in common.”

Flug was an idiot. Flug was a complete and total idiot. What was he doing? It was too late to back out now, but he could curse himself the entire time.

“Or maybe you can’t speak. You’re rightfully worried about being blackmailed. Very prudent, I can admire that.”

Black Hat felt a finger slide easily into him. He jolted, stuttering.

“Who…”

Black Hat swallowed, his dick bobbing from the motion.

“Who are you, then? Another villain? A politician? You must be on the client list. The rest of them wouldn’t shut up about who they were.”

Flug went to put on a gruff, deep voice, before remembering that he couldn’t do that and trying would get him killed. He chose to abstain, still moving his finger. He was _inside_ Black Hat! _The_ Black Hat! Inside! And all it took was arranging an after-party where all the guests left to laugh at him! They would have done that anyway!

“So what’s your excuse,” Black Hat grunted. “Tongue cut out? Nod yes or no.”

Flug nodded.

“I hope you didn’t actually nod. I’m wearing a blindfold.”

Ah, there went the last of Flug’s pride. Toodle-oo.

“You must have something to hide. Are you a _secret_ villain? A superhero getting sick of a bad gig? Defectors get discounts, you know. What about a wife that doesn’t know you’re here, hmm? A sweet little wife that doesn’t know what you get up to? You wouldn’t be the first. I’d love to ruin your life,” he purred.

Flug opened Black Hat’s legs.

“Ah, sore,” Black Hat said to himself. Flug’s arousal spiked, a cold, sadistic thrill oozing up his spine and pouring into the rest of him. Flug pushed in, hoping it hurt, and was rewarded with a gasp.

“Slow down! Honestly. I’m tender.”

Flug moved as fast as he was able, hunched and desperate. It was too good. Everything was too good, too perfect, he couldn’t believe his luck. Black Hat underneath him, and more than that, suffering. Flug pulled him into a passionate kiss. Black Hat, amused at his guest’s tenacity, deepened it, allowing his long, slender tongue to mingle with the other. It deepened still when Black Hat felt thin arms wrap around his shoulders and a long, low moan until they were frantically pressing their bodies together. Unfortunately, the perfect fulfilment of Flug’s sordid fantasies was too much to bear. Flug’s hips juddered and he let out a pathetic squeak. Black Hat looked down, confused.

“... Already…? That’s it? That was sad. That’s a _sad_ fuck. Completely unacceptable.”

Flug felt his fear rise at the familiar words, but he didn’t speak. Black Hat casually broke the ropes, standing up and completely obliterating the chair in the process. He stretched, up, then out, smelling the air and flickering his tongue. He looked at Flug dead on.  

“You’ll do.”

Black Hat grabbed him with one hand, lifted his weight easily and threw him painfully onto a nearby table. Flug had to resist the urge to whoop. It was happening! It was really, finally happening! The prep was a good idea, as was hiding a spare change of clothes in one of the bathrooms. Black Hat clawed his jeans to shreds, nicking his skin wonderfully, and in one animalistic thrust he crammed himself in Flug as hard as he could.

“Oh, you were hoping for this, then?”

He bent Flug over until his bones popped and then ruined him, holding him still with his claws as he thrashed. Flug didn’t dare to look back, afraid of what he would see, mouths and teeth and dozens of limbs. He was happy to lie there, his face smashed to the table. He felt a torrent of cum flood him and he gasped from the feeling.

Black Hat was a slurring, cum-drunk mess, barely able to string a sentence together nevermind a coherent thought.

“Round one,” he garbled. “My record is eighteen.”

Flug buckled in for the night of his life.

 

* * *

 

Black Hat sat in his chair, picking at a bar of unbearably dark chocolate. He looked intently at his newspaper, looking tired but comfortable, still basking in the afterglow. He had taken the day off to give himself time to recuperate, to luxuriate and bask as a snake would on a warm rock. Flug, however, had a long day of work ahead of him. He shuffled into the kitchen, head down, taking his place at the table.

“Good morning, sir.”

“Morning, Flug.”

“How was it?”

“Oh, you know,” Black Hat said wryly. “There were ups and downs.”

“Are you sore?”

“Hm? Oh, from last night. No. The good thing about being a shapeshifter is that if something is wrong I can fix it. I’m drained, but otherwise fine.”

Flug seethed with envy. Sitting still was almost unbearable. Curse those nineteen rounds! Curse those wonderful, back-breaking rounds! He wasn’t built for this!

“But you know, it’s odd,” said Black Hat, “I’m short of money. It doesn’t make sense. Guests paid at the door but the numbers don’t add up. I might as well be a street urchin. Stuck in a chimney. Dead.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic, sir?”

“When have I ever been overdramatic? But it’s hard to tell because I was preoccupied. I could be worrying over nothing.”

“I hope everything works out, sir.”

“Oh, it will. I’ve not been duped yet. But something is off. Something isn’t sitting right.”

Flug resisted the urge to say ‘me’ despite that being the case. He was lucky to shuffle out when he did. Thank God for Black Hat’s post-heat naps.

“Maybe I’m overthinking it,” said Black Hat. He chewed on his pen, squinting at the newspaper. “Where were you?”

Flug froze, reciting the answer he had practised in the mirror before coming downstairs.

“I was at home, in my room, petting 5.0.5 and watching a box set on a crisp winter's evening.”

Black Hat removed the pen from his mouth. He stared, unblinking, into Flug’s goggles.

“That was a liar’s answer.”

“It isn’t, sir. Boss. Lord. Dark Master. Sexy-boss-that-isn’t-going-to-hurt-me.”

“It is. I’m not a moron, Flug. I deal in lies and your sycophancy isn’t helping you. Come here.”

“No, thank you.”

“Why not?”

“I have… I have the flu.”

“The flu.”

“And… And tuberculosis.”

“Get over here before I feed you to Lil’ Jack feet-first. Look at you, you’re sweating.”

Flug cursed and stood up. With several pained noises, he shuffled over, standing in front of Black Hat and wringing his hands. Black Hat looked at him severely. Up and down.

“Sore, Flug?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

Black Hat turned back to his paper. He ate a small square of dark chocolate, thinking, tapping his pen against his chin. Flug went to sit down.

“Hold on,” Black Hat said. Flug continued to hover, uneasy.

“I’ve been stuck on this crossword for half an hour. The normal ones are fine,” Black Hat said as if talking to himself, “but it’s the cryptic ones that get me. You’re suited to this kind of thing. ‘More crooked than most’. Ten letters.”

Flug thought on this, suppressing his aches and trying to look as normal as possible. He was silent for a moment.

“‘Asymmetric’, sir.”

Black Hat blinked.

“Hm. So it is,” he said. He filled it in, swung his hand out to the left and deliberately dropped the pen. He looked at it on the tiles, then to Flug, then to the pen.

“Pick that up,” said Black Hat.

“What?”

“The pen is on the floor. I dropped it. You are standing up. Bend forward, pick up the pen, and hand it to me. You were at home, with 5.0.5, watching box sets on a crisp winter’s evening so it’s not you’re sore from any strenuous exercise, right?”

Flug knew he was doomed. His survival instincts demand he at least try to get away with this. Black Hat watched him struggle to bend, then crane his knees awkwardly in an attempt to lean down. They exchanged eye contact, Flug half-hovering as if frozen in a dance move.

“Did you break into my sex party, Flug?”

“... Yes, sir.”

Black Hat took a deep, quick breath, and exhaled slowly. His lip twitched as he, with a great amount of effort, suppressed a snarl.

“How?”

“You see, the thing is, is that--”

Black Hat looked at him, his beady little pupil fixed intently on Flug. 

“Y-You seemed OK with me going,” Flug stuttered, “and-- and getting involved until I looked interested, so I-- I thought that if you didn’t know...?”

 _“How,_ Flug?”

Flug shook, bracing his weight on his back foot.

“I-- I told the security I was meant to be there, and since I was the one that hired them, they believed--”

Black Hat dropped his newspaper. No. No, it couldn’t have been so simple. There had to be some daring, rambunctious scheme afoot. There’s no way Flug just walked in the front door, that was insane, it was stupid, it was moronic, it just wasn’t Black Hat.

“Oh no,” Black Hat whispered. “Oh no.”

“Sir, I know you’re probably upset--”

“We have two issues. One. Your presence in my sexnasium. Two. The fact I made a very, very stupid mistake. Something I would scream at my clients over. Hmm.”

“To be fair sir,” Flug said, desperately trying to pacify his ego, “you had-- had other, more important things on your mind.”

“No. No, a mistake is a mistake. If this happened to anybody else I would tear them a new arsehole, this is inexcusable. I won’t be doing that again. So not only have you crashed a party you weren’t invited to and shoved your tongue in my mouth, I’m assuming you were that one--”

“You’re a very good kisser,” Flug said quietly.

“-- You have completely humiliated me in every way possible. Not only did you fuck me, you’ve fucked my dignity as well. Bravo.”

Flug clutched his head, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for the horrifying retribution that never came. He opened them, slowly, to look at Black Hat.

“You… You look very calm, sir.”

“I suppose I do,” Black Hat mused, sipping his tea and having another square of chocolate.

“You’re not…”

Flug allowed hope to creep into his voice, tapping his fingers to one another.

“You’re not mad?”

“Oh no,” Black Hat chuckled, “no, I can feel myself filling with hate. But yesterday drained me. I’m still tired. So it’s slow going. It’s a lazy kind of day, so I’m taking my time.”

“Oh.”

“But I am getting there. Don’t worry. _I am getting there._ ”

Black Hat clasped his hands to one another on the table, closing his eyes and looking content, as if nothing was wrong.

“Ooh, this is nice. It’s like a bubble-bath for my insides. I’m usually so filled with hate that I can’t appreciate it building back up. Do you want some chocolate? It’s not poison, this time.”

“No, sir. No, I-- I don’t.”

“Are you sure? More for me,” he said, shrugging.

Black Hat yawned. He stretched his arms upwards until his back clicked with a satisfying pop of bone. Then he stretched his arms, his eyes half-shut from exhaustion.

“It’s good to keep limber,” he said, lightly. “You’ll learn that with age. That one is free, by the way. Ten.”

“Th-Thank you-- wait, what did you say, sir?”

“Nine.”

“What are you--?”

Black Hat got out of his chair, put his newspaper down and braced himself to the ground, one knee to the floor. He did a few more stretches and then stayed there.

“Eight.”

“Oh no,” Flug whispered. “Oh no, no no.”

_“Seven.”_

Black Hat rolled his neck, the bones clicking and creaking, loosening his shoulders.

_“Six.”_

“Sir,” Flug pleaded, “can’t we talk about this?

“We are talking. _Five.”_

“Oh my God. Oh my God, no.”

“God can’t help you now, Flug” Black Hat said airily, as if commenting on traffic. _"_ _Four.”_

Flug broke into a sprint, throwing himself out of the kitchen.

_“Three.”_

Flug pulled his hamstring, yelping as he limped. Black Hat laughed with a hard, two-toned edge to his voice, hearing this from the kitchen.

“I wasn’t kidding about stretching, Flug! _Two!_ ”

Flug cried out in terror. He had only just cleared the hallway, picking a direction and darting off, not athletic at the best of times.

_“One!”_

Flug felt like a gazelle on the Serengeti, chased by a lion that also happened to have an uzi taped to its face. Footsteps thundered from behind him as Black Hat set a blistering pace, closing the gap in seconds.

_“FLUG!”_

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry!”

**_“FLUG! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU’VE DONE, FLUG!”_ **

Flug let out a shriek as a claw swiped at the back of his neck, just missing. He pulled his other hamstring, sealing his fate.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘jecefito chulo’ doesn’t seem to have a slick, easy to use translation i can sneak in as much as possible, but i tried my very best at the end there
> 
> You know, this didn’t come out as sexy as I intended it to, but I hope you can enjoy it despite that. Happy valentines~~! 
> 
> (if you masturbated to this you are an absolute trooper and i commend you)


End file.
